Z: The zombies story
by Ironwolf935
Summary: Two unlikely allies must join forces to survive a horrific plague. While trying to survive this hell on earth, they will uncover conspiracies that bend the fabric of space and time; and search for a man that they believe can not only explain these horrors
1. Prologue

_**Z: Prologue **_

_**Note: The only characters I have created in this story are Jacob and Susan. Everything else, including weapons and characters, are owned by Treyarch and Call of Duty. This is simply a fan-fiction. Rated M for future chapters. Enjoy.**_

Richtofen

They stand in a room, medium size, but most space taken up with computers and desks, one with an audio recorder sitting on it. There are tables stacked with notes, blueprints, and test results. Two doors stand on opposite sides of the room, which has steel walls, floors, and roof, all sealed to keep any sound from escaping. They've discussed how the test will go; however, the danger of the experiment is still persistent in their minds. He turns on the recorder.

"Log entry forty two. Date: January four, nineteen hundred forty." His voice has an accent; German. He looks over to his accomplice. "Dr. Shuster and I, despite mounting pressure from Dr. Maxis, have continued working on the matter transference prototype." There is doubt in his eyes; Fear. He picks up a data sheet, which is stamped with the group's logo: an arm reaching upwards, grabbing a circle that is marked with their name, Group 935. Around this is a gear, and the outside of the atom smasher logo. "We have made great strides in the last 30 days, and are ready for our first human subject. If our calculations are correct, we will send a test subject, me, to a receptacle station 30 yards away, and behind a cinder block wall."

Shuster turns to him, he knows the danger of such a test. "Are you certain you want to do this, Dr. Richtofen?" He looks to his eyes. Though he shows fear, he also shows hope. He envisions a future; a future of men, women and children capable of things the current human state is incapable of. He envisions a future in which all diseases and natural disasters are wiped from the earth, where humans control every aspect of the globe. Who knows? Perhaps even beyond. Unlike most, he lives and breathes the group's motto, and believes they can achieve it. He wishes solely to improve the human condition. To achieve this, however, risks must be made. This is but one risk needed to improve mankind, and should he die during this test, he'll know he died for humanity.

"_Nein_, Dr. Shuster. But this must be done." He steps into the machine, his heart racing. "Quickly. Put in your ear buds and power up the machine." As told, Shuster steps away from the device. He inserts is ear buds, and picks up a remote. He starts the machine.

Electricity emits from inside the machine, where Richtofen stands, though he is unharmed. He closes his eyes. Suddenly, a burst of light blasts from the machine, and Richtofen is sent through space and time. He is then surrounded by complete darkness. "Is there a power outage?" None respond. "Why is it so dark? I feel almost...weightless." He inspects what he can see in the darkness. He stands in a dark cavern, rock seemingly all around. "How very unexpected." He calls out for Shuster, but none respond. He grabs a lighter from his pocket and lights it. "There. I can see now, I.." He looks up, and almost drops his lighter out of shock.

"Oh my god. I'm standing in a circular cave, surrounded by some kind of...machinery." He sees a blue pyramid, about thirty feet high, in the center of the cave. There are metal steps moving up to it, and what appears to be a square control panel with a hole in the middle. He moves closer. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. It looks almost alien in nature." He moves onto the steps. "There is a pyramid structure in the center of the room. I'm going to try and carefully touch it." He reaches. He feels a sudden pain in his fingers. "Dah! Static electricity!" He ignores the pain, and inspects the pyramid. "It's smooth to the touch...very cold...not a speck of dust." He knocks on it's surface. "Might be...hallow." He inspects around the pyramid, and examines the ceiling. His mind ponders of where this device came from. Is it truly alien? "The chamber is quite large. I see what looks like capacitors on the ceiling of the chamber, but there are no obvious connections to anything electrical. What is this place?"

He hears his name. "Richtofen" He turns around. "Dr. Shuster? Is that you?" "I am here." Richtofen knows not of how Shuster came to this place, but is blinded by the joy of having another great mind to share his findings with. "Dr. Shuster! Look at this! It appears to be covered in some kind of hieroglyphic language. I have not seen anything like it before." The voice sounds weak and weary. "It serves a higher purpose, Edward." Richtofen is surprised by how quiet Shuster is being. Not only that, but no one calls him 'Edward' anymore. They are the only ones there. "Why are you whispering to me? There's no need for that!"

He suddenly hears the electrical sound of the matter transference prototype. "What is this noise? Do you hear that? It sounds almost like..." Before he understands what is happening, he finds himself standing in an even stranger land. "My god! What happened?" He looks around, surrounded by giant trees, lush bushes, birds and insects flying about. It is a night sky; an eclipse. "I seem to be in some kind of jungle. I can't be certain that there is..." He hears yelling and screaming coming from behind him. He turns around. "Oh no!" He screams. He is taken.

_**The next chapter should be up in mere moments. Thank you for reading.**_


	2. Hell's Gate

_**Again, I do not own Nazi Zombies, the characters created from it, or any weapons. That is all Treyarch's property. Jacob and Susan however, are my creations. Note: Google Translate might help a little :D**_

_Chapter 1: Hell's gate_

Jacob:

I am in Berlin. Around me tank fire bombards every building in sight. Windows are shattered, gunfire and bombs fill my ears. I run from Wehrmacht troopers, determined to kill me. I run into a back alley, hoping to lose their sight. A dead end, I turn, hoping for escape, only to find myself cornered. Fear runs through my veins. One of them walks up to me, MP40 in hand. He smiles at me, a wicked curve of his mouth. "_Hinlegen, Hund_." He says. "_Hinzulegen und zu umarmen Ihrem _Tod ." My eyes close, waiting for death. I suddenly hear gunfire, yet no bullets strike me. I hear the Nazi troops screaming in pain. I open my eyes to see American marines behind them. One walks over to me, and gives me a canteen. I drink from it. The sweet taste covers my mouth, for I haven't drank clean water in days. "Don't worry." He says. He escorts me to a truck. I step into the back, more marines sitting down, Thomson submachine gun in hands. "You will never have to endure this pain again."

I awake. I'm still trapped in a cattle car, filled with others that the Nazis find...insignificant. Homosexuals, Christians, Africans, and, of course, the primary target, Jews. I am of the latter. Around me are people who are either dead or wish to be so. Men, Women, and children with their bones showing through their skin. Some begging for their lives. Some begging for forgiveness of previous sins they have committed, and others begging for death.

I hear a voice. "You know where they are taking us." I turn to my left, to see a man, dressed in ragged, torn clothes, much like everyone else here. He has a small beard, brown hair and eyes, and there is a large scar across his chest. I ask not where it is from; for I already know where. "I suspect not anywhere good." I tell him. He looks me over, examining me. "Your name?" He asks. "Jacob." He sighs, either from exhaustion or depression. "Ezekiel." He closes his eyes, and lets out a chuckle. "My father's name was Jacob. He was a good man." His smile fades, he pauses. "He was murdered by the _Schutzstaffel_."

I feel his pain, though the answer seems redundant. Almost everyone who is not part of Adolf Hitler's Regime has had their lives torn apart by the _Shutzstaffel._ Their dark branch has influenced all of Europe. We pray that one day, their treachery will end. The only ones who stand between us and them are the allies. The United States, Great Britain, and the Soviet Union are our only hope of this war ending with us being free. Until then, however, we are stuck in a living nightmare.

Suddenly, the train starts to shake violently, and screeching is heard from the tracks. Screaming fills the car, as only a few remain calm as I. The train comes to a stop and we hear the _Schutzstaffel_ from outside the train. "_Verdammt_! What is wrong?" One of them asks. We hear footsteps. "The wheels have been damaged! We will have to stop somewhere closer. Do you know where we can drop off the cargo?" Cargo. There are starving human beings in here and they call us cargo. "Yes. There is a small camp 8 kilometers from here. We can repair the train there." Ezekiel lets out a sigh of relief. "Good. We will have at least, a little bit of time before our destination." A question ponders in my mind. "And where exactly do you believe they are taking us?" He turns to me. "Auschwitz."

Once I feel the moving of the train stop, we are taken out one by one. They call for me, and I follow their orders. When I finally see the building, it appears very small, for the amount of people here. There are three doors, two opposite of each other and one on the left wall, along with four windows, one on the right and two on the left. On the right side, there is a stairwell leading to an upstairs area. As I'm escorted through the building, I notice a barred area. Behind the bars is a truck, and some oil barrels.

Before I can move into the next room, I am thrown down onto the floor by a guard. "Stay here! If you move, you will be shot!" To avoid a bullet, I follow his orders, and he leaves into the next room. I notice Ezekiel sitting next to me. Within a matter of minutes, the building fills with prisoners. First twenty, then forty, eighty, a hundred. Once all of us have been escorted into the holding area, there are well over three hundred of us packed into an area meant for fifty.

"You realize we outnumber the German guards five to one?" Ezekiel asks. He seeks rebellion. He believes we can escape this. I too consider this idea, but the Germans have machine guns, rifles, grenades. We have our bare hands. They are well rested and well fed. Some of us have not slept or ate in days. "It would not be a wise decision, my friend." I tell him. He looks through a window. "We must escape this someday. The Lord does not wish to see us rot in this prison." I know his words are true, but the odds are not in our favor. We would a miracle to escape this place.

Out of the room near us, we see a highly decorated soldier walk into our room. Very unusual is that it is a woman. She has blond hair and blue eyes, something out of a Nazi propaganda poster. It is clear in her eyes that she shows no remorse for our kind. She may not say it, but we are mere dogs to her. To all of them. Mere hounds who have soiled the floor one too many times; hounds who must be put to death for their decisions, their beliefs, their heritage. Her uniform holds many medals, telling us that she is a very high ranking officer. This is a warning sign to us; for every medal on a Nazi's body is twenty of the Reich's prisoners dead by her hand. She surveys the room.

"Attention!" Silence fills the room as her voice echoes throughout the walls. She looks around for anyone not focused on her, and continues speaking. "My name is Susan Adler, but you may refer to me as your _Rottenführer_. I am the commander of this station, which means I make the decisions. If I give you orders, you will follow them, or you will be terminated. You will be held here until the train is repaired. Once it is repaired, you will be sent to Auschwitz. If you do not follow orders immediately, you will be shot. If you try to escape, you will be shot. If you disrespect myself, or my soldiers in any manner, you will be shot. Understand these rules, and follow them. That is all. Remain seated and do not move."And so the soldiers continue with their business. Walking around us, making sure we don't get any smart ideas.

I see Ezekiel awake. "you said something about your father." I say. "What was he like?" He stares into space for a moment, perhaps remembering better times. "My father was a chef." He says. "He and our family owned a small bakery in Berlin. He would make the finest cakes and pies in all of Europe. He was a highly respected man, as character was the highest value in our family. Some would try to buy his recipes from him. He would always refuse, as he planned to pass them down to us, and our children, and theirs." I see a tear swell in his eye. "I would always have the honor of putting on the finishing touches, such as the frosting, or cherries. I remember one day, when I was a child, we must have made twenty pies. I was only eight at the time." The memory makes him smile. "I was so excited to have them. But he walked out the door with all of them. I was disappointed at first, but after following him, I saw he was giving them to those less fortunate. I started doing this too with him, until I was of seventeen years of age." His smile fades, and turns to anger.

"Then came Hitler's rise to power. All Jewish families were looked at as atrocities. They forced us to close down the bakery! All of my father's work, gone! We were forced to wear the holy star of king David on our chests. And we were mocked for it! Mocked for respecting those that are holy! The guards could beat us, kill us, deflower our wives, and what happened? They were rewarded with a damn medal!"

I motion for him to quiet down. We shouldn't alert the guards. He sighs, and now talks softer. "The last I remember, it was my twenty-seventh birthday. It had cost him a fortune, but he had gathered all the ingredients needed to make his famous '_Sünder Freude_' cake. All of my family; my father, mother, brothers and sisters gathered around the table, celebrating with songs of joy, wishing me a happy and productive year. As I was about to blow out the candles, _Wehrmacht_ troops bashed through our door, demanding we get loaded onto their trucks. My father tried to convince them to allow us to finish our ceremony before we boarded. He even offered for them to sit down and enjoy some of the cake. When he was finished speaking, without saying a word, the _Wehrmacht _opened fire on all of my family, right in front of me. I was scared. I was in shock. I didn't know what to do. They told me to get onto the truck, or I would end up like them. I followed my orders, and was sent to a concentration camp in God knows where. Then a week ago, I was told that I was being transferred. Now I am here."

He stares at the ground for a few moments, still remembering a horrible memory. Tears start to rain down from his eyes. "I'm sorry." I tell him. He looks up to me. "It's horrid what they did to you. To your family. To all of us. I'm certain that one day, Hitler and his followers will pay for what they have done. God will not let them live freely with this." He takes in my words. "We shall see, Jacob. I only pray for our salvation. On Earth, or above." The words settle in as we sit in silence. The Nazis truly have recked havoc on Germany, but can they be stopped? Anyone who even attempts to speak out against them are either killed or tortured. I think about getting some rest, before I hear Ezekiel again. "And you?" He asks.

At first the question seems alien to me, but I grasp his words quickly. He wants to know how I came here. I loathe the answer, but he trusts me. He has shared with me his past. I suppose I should return the favor. I sigh, mostly swallowing my pride in the process, before continuing. "I will tell you the truth and only the truth." I say. "Please do not hate me for the answer." He sits up, obviously interested. "You have my word." He says. So I tell him.

"When I was a mere boy; fourteen I believe, the Nazi party was just beginning to be born. Hitler was announced chancellor of Germany, and Nazi propaganda filled the air like a fresh breeze in spring. I was a victim of propaganda. The banners, the songs of praise for the fatherland, and the shiny _Schutzstaffel_ uniforms entranced me. My parents, or the people who I believed were my parents, were completely German. Not an ounce of Jewish blood in our family. I was a member of the Hitler Youth until I was eighteen years old. Then, I became a member of the _Wehrmacht_ army. The year was 1938 when I enlisted.

"I never saw the battlefield. My position was to guard a section of German barracks. These barracks were located in the heart of Germany. Then, one day, two other guards approached me. They said they had troubling news. I couldn't believe what they were saying. They had my birth certificate. Apparently, I was not born Jacob Kaiser. My real parents were a Jewish couple under the names of Maria Dosner and Joseph Dosner. They were very poor, so they gave me to a wealthy German family; the Kaisers. I was not aware of the atrocities the Nazis were committing when I enlisted. I am sorry."

He stares blankly into my eyes before speaking once more. "So you were a Nazi once?" He asks. He knows the answer, he only wants me to confirm it. As the question escapes his lips, I hang my head in shame. The one thing that I now hate dearly was my fantasy in the past. "Why did you keep your German name?" He asks. I've never thought of the question before. I try to think why, but my mind goes blank. I never saw it as having much value. Before I can reply, he lies down, and blocks me out. I consider doing the same, but I hear commotion coming from the door to my right. Curiously, I listen to the conversation. I can make out a _Wehrmacht_ guard, screaming frantically.

" _Rottenführer_Adler! We have disturbing news." I don't hear what she says, but the soldier is being loud enough to hear through the wooden door. "We have word of an American force headed to this location. According to our intelligence, they are sending an army of foot soldiers to rescue the prisoners." For a moment, silence. Susan then speaks quietly, but just loud enough for me to hear. "Exactly when are they rumored to be headed here?" "Approximately twenty minutes." She seethes at his response. "Why am I just now receiving this information?" She asks. "We have just gotten word of this, commandant Adler. What do you want us to do?" "The obvious." She says. "Set up a defensive perimeter around this area. Make sure every square inch is covered."

No more sound comes from the door. I then see both _Schutzstaffel_ and _Wehrmacht_ troops setting up a defensive perimeter around the building. Just as Susan instructed, they cover every inch of the area. I look over to Ezekiel, to tell him the good news, but he has passed out, most likely from exhaustion.

I hear Colonel Adler shouting out orders. "I want at least twenty troops on each side of the perimeter! Everyone else stay with me and guard the prisoners! We cannot allow them to escape!" She runs down the stairs, where we sit. She looks around the building, making sure all soldiers are at their assigned posts. She walks over to us.

"Should we die in this wretched place, please, answer me one last question". I turn to see Ezekiel, looking at Susan. She turns to him, a surprised expression on her face, but she decides to listen. "What is it?" He looks into her eyes. "What have we done to deserve this imprisonment?" She answers without blinking."You refuse to accept the Fuhrer as your leader. You continuously rebel against him, despite his just decisions." He lets out a laugh. "Just decisions? Look around you! If you were treated with such hatred, such evil, would you not rebel too?" She stares at him for a few more seconds, pondering on the question, and returns to her post.

I lean back, hoping the American troops will save us. But as I do, I notice a German soldier, looking up and standing as still as a statue. He then runs full speed back to the building, a petrified look as he does, and screams, though is killed before he finishes. The word he says sends everyone into panic. It eliminates our hope of rescue, and makes us fear for our lives. "_Bombenflugzeuge_!"

The sounds of jet engines fill our ears. The soil of the ground bursts on impact. The building is bombarded by the jets, until it is almost rubble. Prisoners try to run. Some are shot, some are blown by the bombers. I get up and run into the second room. I look behind me to see if any guards have noticed me. When I turn around, the ceiling collapses, and my head is met with concrete, and I am rendered unconscious.

When I awake, the holding station is in ruins. Rubble and debris are everywhere, papers are burning, and no one seems to be in sight. I put a hand on my head, and notice it is bleeding. I move into the room I originally was, and see Ezekiel. He has a bullet hole in his head. He must have tried to escape. I lean down to him. "May you find the happiness in heaven you were cheated of on earth." I say, and move on. Strangely, there are no bodies at all. It is as though they have vanished. I move to a window, and look outside, and see a truck. My way of escaping this place. But before I have time to take the chance, I feel the cold steel of a pistol being pressed against my head.

_**I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Thank you for reading. The next chapter will also be up shortly.**_


	3. Night of the Undead

_**This will be the last time I will say this, as some (myself) might find it annoying to see on every chapter. This applies to all of them however. I do not own anything to do with Nazi Zombies or Call of Duty. This is simply a fan-fiction. With that said, please enjoy. (Note: if you've been craving zombie blood, I have good news for you...)**_

_Chapter 2: Night of the Undead_

Susan:

The smell of smoke and rubble fills my nostrils. I open my eyes, and see that I am buried beneath mounds of rock and debris. As I push the rubble away from me, I catch a glimpse of my fortress. Completely destroyed, most of the foundation is broken in two. I'm surprised it is still holding up. I get to my feet. I can barley stand. The debris must have fallen on my leg once I was unconscious.

I look to my right, and see a Thompson submachine gun hanging on the wall, with a chalk outline around it. We did have such weapons here, but we would never be as arrogant to hang them on the wall, for anyone to grab. I wonder how it got there, but I move on. I move into the holding area, expecting to find my guards, and the prisoners, dead. Instead, all the bodies, except for one, seem to have vanished. I look outside, and see one of my prisoners alive. I recognize him. He sat next to the other one, who needed to be told a reason for his imprisonment. He has black hair, and is about my height, 5'10. He is looking out to one of our trucks, which somehow is intact. He seeks to escape. I make my way behind him. In my pocket is a .45 colt M1911 pistol. I pull it out, and put it it his head

"Put your hands behind your head, and turn around. Slowly." I tell him. He turns "What is your name?" I ask him "Jacob." He says. "Jacob Kaiser." I examine him, making sure he is free of any weapons. "What will become of me?" He asks. "You will be sent to Auschwitz concentration camp, and your fate will be decided there." He sighs, a defeated look overcomes his face. But what business is mine of his end. I remember of a radio being stored inside of a truck outside. I look through the broken window, and see it. I wave my pistol towards the truck. "Now move."

We approach the truck and begin to leave. I insert the key. Before I leave the ruins, I see a figure in the distance, moving slowly towards us. I look to Jacob. I take his handcuffs, and connect it to the door handle. Wouldn't want him running off. . It looks to be human, and it appears to be wearing the _Wehrmacht_ uniform. Immediately I feel joy of seeing perhaps one of my guards alive. However, he seems to be walking in an odd fashion. I yell to him a simple question. "Soldier, what division are you from?" He does not respond. We walk closer to each other. His uniform burnt. "Soldier, I asked you a question. Respond." No response. I look at his face. His eyes are glowing yellow. Fear develops in me. I raise my pistol to him. "If you don't respond, you will be shot." No response. He tries to grab me, his mouth opens.

I push his arm down and shoot him in the head, the bullet hole visible. He does not fall. I fire the rest of my clip into the thing. It won't die. I run as fast as my legs will go, fear flows through my veins. I scream to him. "Jacob, get in the truck, now!" he moves into the passenger seat. I turn around. The thing has started sprinting towards us. I move into the drivers seat. There is no key. Jacob sees the _untoten_. "Susan, what is that thing?" I ignore him. I get out of the car, and it runs straight towards me. Jacob kicks his door open, and runs behind me. I pull out a combat knife. As soon as it is in striking distance, I thrust my blade past it's thought. It falls, and I tackle it, and stab it twice in the neck.

It lies there, motionless. Blood spilling from it's neck. It's dead. It has to be dead. It has to be. Me and Jacob stand over the thing. "What's going on?" He asks. I ignore him. Too frightened to focus. I watch the thing. Stare at it. Making sure it's dead. I see it move. Immediately, I pull my knife back out, and slice it's head off, and stab it repeatedly in the chest. Too frightened to make a sound, I stand there covered in blood, not understanding what is going on. "What the hell was that thing?" Jacob asks. I turn to him, speechless. _Untoten_ rising from the grave? It has to be. What else could that thing be? I recognized it's face. He was part of my second regiment. He was the first one to see the bombers in the sky. "Give me your hands." I tell him. He puts them in front of me, and I cut his handcuffs off. I look up, and see more of them. "What the hell was that thing?" I turn to see Jacob looking at me. "Get back into the building." I tell him.

We both run back to my station. We jump over a group of sandbags used for defense. "Grab a weapon!" I yell to him. I look to my right, and see two more weapons on the wall, with a chalk outline. One is a Kar98k bolt-action rifle. The other a semi-automatic M1A1 Carbine rifle. Too frightened to care of their origin, I grab a Kar98k, and begin shooting. He does the same with the M1A1. I see one behind the truck. I aim down the iron sights, and pop it's head off. I see it fall, and am relived that there is some way to kill these beasts.

"We have a breach!" I turn to Jacob, and see three zombies pulling down our barriers. He shoots one of them in the head, fires several more bullets into the seconds chest, and slits the thirds throat. I look around. No more seem to be coming. Jacob reloads his weapon. I stand there, trying to grasp the situation at hand. Suddenly, I hear him scream, and almost jump. "What the hell were those things, Susan?" I don't know what to say. Those things aren't human. They can't be human. I have no clue where they came from. All I know is that my life has turned into a living hell. Undead beasts trying to kill us, and the only person who aids me is a Jew; the filth of the world. The ones that my kind wipe out. I look up to him. "I don't know." I say. For a moment, we stand there in silence, trying to take in these heavy elements. I look over to the wall, another M1A1 Carbine and Kar98k stand. It vexes me of how they have reappeared there.

"Ironic, isn't it?" He asks."A Nazi; a high ranking Nazi, I assume, working with a Jew, a son of God, Hitler's hated, trying to survive?" He pauses. "An interesting turn of events, you think?" I take this as an insult. I step to him. "I will admit the sick humor fate has played on us. but we are in a situation of survival. You are human. You know how to fire a weapon. This makes you valuable to survival. This is the only reason I haven't stabbed you in the back yet." "Were you going to gas my body afterwards?" He responds. It takes every fiber of my being to not shoot him in the mouth. "I am still in control here." I say. He stares at me for three seconds and sighs. He talks. "We're the only ones alive for who knows how long. Though our kind hates each other, we are both human, as you said. We are both vital for survival. We must put our differences aside if we wish to survive." He puts out his hand. "Please. This is the only way we can last." I look down at it, deciding my next move. "You expect me to shake your hand?" I ask. "If not for me, then for your own survival." He says. Regrettably, I sigh, and shake his hand. "_Nur bis wir Erlösung finden_." I say.

We hear moaning coming from outside. "You cover the windows in the corner. I'll cover the ones by the door." I tell him. He goes to his position, and I go to mine. I hope this truce between us can end soon. Perhaps we shall come across some _Wehrmacht_ guards. His burden will finally be off my shoulders, and we can battle this infestation. Until then, I must make due with what I have, and that would be a Kar98k, a colt M1911 .45, and a Jew who does not know how to follow orders.


	4. An unexpected discovery

_**Forgive me for saying this, but the next chapter won't be up as quickly. I've started this story a while ago and have just decided to begin posting it. This is the last complete chapter I have. But, never fear my friends, Ironwolf will continue, and it will be up soon.**_

_Chapter 3: An unexpected discovery_

Jacob:

They move faster towards us, still a walking pace. Despite their horrid look, they are easy to kill. Simply one headshot from my rifle takes one down. As they fall, they simply ignore the other going down. They show no fear, no anger, no hatred. No expression whatsoever. I cannot help but wonder how these things came to be. I move to my second window, and put a bullet through it's brain.

Susan seems to be receiving most of the attacks. As none are near me, I see six at one of her windows, tearing the boards down. I raise my rifle and fire. They go down one by one. I recheck my perimeter, making sure there are no more. There is only one more, at Susan's window. I aim at it's head. "_Nein_! Don't touch it!" She yells. "No more are coming. If we kill it, they will come out again." I lower my firearm.

She heads to the door I sat beside earlier. In white letters, the word 'HELP' is on the front of the door. How all these small anomalies have been occurring is still a mystery to me. Me and the Nazi are the only ones here, and neither of us know how it got here. The zombie is still at walking pace, so we don't worry about it too much. "If that's the only one, why are we still here?" I ask. "That's the only one here." She says. "We don't know how many there are out in the fog. Our best choice would be to stay put."

She examines the door. "Damn. We need a key. Look around the floor." She hopelessly looks around the floor for the door's key. I immediately find a simpler solution. I back away a meter away from the door. Then, with all my strength, I kick down the door, it smashes down on the ground. The thud of the impact startles her. "Your welcome." I say. An annoyed look comes across her face. "Don't do that again." I ignore her, and proceed into the room.

We both look around for anything useful. In a corner I see a blue crate, labeled "_Wehrmacht_" on the front. I go to it, hoping to find ammunition. I notice that on the wall in front of me, I see the outline of what appears to be a shotgun, and a submachine gun. I continue to look through the chest. "Jacob. Come over here." Susan says. I get up and walk towards her. My eyes find a very peculiar object. She also looks at it. It is a very small cargo box. It goes no more than halfway to my knee, and is about one meter wide. There are two question marks on the top, both glowing gold, then white, then gold again an so forth.

She grabs the top of it and attempts to lift it open. It doesn't move. "Come help me with this, Jacob." I lean down to the box, and we both try to lift it open. It won't budge. We both can hear the zombie coming from the doorway. "You work on this box. I'll keep the zombie busy." Says Susan. She gets up and lures the thing away. I grab tightly on the opening of the box and push up as hard as my arms will bear, with no success. I try several more times, wishing I could blow the damn thing up. I look to see if it is nailed down, but don't see any nails. "I hate this stupid thing." I say to myself. Once more I attempt to open this stubborn box, but it just won't budge. Obviously annoyed, I get up and kick the thing twice. Susan turns, shocked by my behavior. I lean to kick it a third time, but before I can, the box opens itself.

Light seems to be illuminating from the bottom of it. Random firearms circulate, and rise from the bottom, a strange jingle playing as they randomize. As the final note of the melody ends, a final weapon, an MP40, appears, and slowly starts to descend. I turn to see if Susan is watching. She is, and looks as surprised as I am. I turn back, and slowly reaching for the weapon, wondering if it is real. It is. As I grab it from the box, it closes shut, the light gone. At my feet are five clips for it.

Only a growl from the zombie gets us out of our trance. Susan turns and Fires several bullets into it's chest. It falls. "What the hell is this thing?" I say as I turn to her. She ignores me, and walks towards the box. She curiously kicks it twice, lightly. It opens, doing the same to her as it did to me. As the weapons circulate, I see something that looks rather odd. It appears for only a split second. Some kind of red pistol. She is more lucky than me , receiving a _Maschinengewehr_ 42. "We should be able to defend ourselves better now." She says. Again, we hear the twisted moaning of the undead. "They will be coming through these windows now too." I tell her. "You take the room where we first started. I shall take here." She nods at me, and moves into the first room.

They move faster now, jogging towards us instead of a light walk. After walking to a nearby window, I fire several bullets of the submachine gun towards them, blood and flesh flying from their chests. I hear moaning behind me. I turn to see them tearing down a hole in the wall. I immediately open fire. After six shots, my clip runs empty. I quickly pull it out, push another into the weapon, pull the lever on the side, and fire. They take seemingly longer to bring down than the previous ones.

I fall as one jumps on top of me. It holds me down, it's mouth dripping with saliva. It's teeth razor sharp. It's eyes a bright yellow. Before it tries to taste my flesh, I reach into my pocket, and pull out a combat knife. It goes for the kill, only to have it's neck meet my blade. It's stunned, but still leans for me. I reach for it's chest, push it off of me, and fire into it's heart with my Carbine. Behind me are more, sprinting at me now. I raise my firearm, and have them meet the same fate as the others. I look around once more, searching for them. None are to be seen.

"Jacob!" Susan calls. She runs into the room, her MG42 hanging on her back. "Don't worry. There's another in the room behind me." She says. "I blew off it's legs, so it won't be going anywhere soon, but it's still alive." She takes out her Kar98k. I look at her back, the MG seeming to make her slouch. "Isn't that thing heavy?" I ask. She kicks the box. "It may be large, but I am more than capable of carrying it." She responds. Her received weapon appears to be a Springfield bolt-action rifle, with eleven clips.

"Damn. I wanted something better." She checks to see if it is loaded. It is. She looks up towards me. "This...thing...isn't of anything I've ever seen before. It is as though some kind of wizard." I chuckle at her joke, though she is right. Whatever this thing is, it is of nothing we know or understand. This thing must use some kind of...magic. It uses some kind of force that we are incapable of learning. It's something out of a novel. A very far fetched novel at that. However, it gives us weapons, with over full ammunition. No matter where it came from, it will be invaluable to our survival.

She kicks the box a second time, the same process repeating itself. Her weapon is a pistol, a .375 magnum. She grits her teeth. "I hope you give me a _panzerschreck_ so I can have the pleasure of blowing you to pieces." She says to the box. Her anger is just to sad to watch. "Try again." I say. "Perhaps it will give you something better." She looks at me, then the box. A sigh escapes her lips before she kicks it once more. "Please." She says as the weapons circulate. "Disappoint me. See what happens."

I am uncertain if that box has emotions or not, but some sense of fear must have gone through it's mind, as a very odd weapon appears as the final choice. Just as I saw before, a red pistol at first glance. It has what appears to be a meter on the side, showing green, yellow, and red sections. On this same side, a black knob and a white switch. In the middle is a clear chamber, in which electricity can be seen surging through. Closer to the end stands a target reticule, with a red star in the middle for aiming. Finally, three metal rings are found on it's rear.

She laughs at it's comical appearance. "What, is this supposed to be a child's toy?" She takes it, along with what looks like fourteen small energy capsules. "How do you reload this weapon anyway? If I should even call it a weapon." She continues to analyze it. She points it at the crawler, mocking both it and the weapon. "This box is some kind of supernatural entity." I tell her. " I would not be surprised if that weapon is the same." Alas, she looks away, and fires the weapon. As she pulls the trigger, we are astonished by a green ray of plasma energy that disintegrates the crawler, tearing it into pieces. She looks at the pistol, still shocked by it's power.

The moaning resumes, footsteps still audible from behind the barred windows. A smile comes over her face. "Glad I've got this thing by my side." She runs back into her room, and I stay in mine, MP40 in arms. They run towards the windows, ripping down the boards we have set up. I run over to the nearest window, aim, and fire. I count how many rounds it takes to kill three of them. Their flesh rips apart, smearing the wooden planks. 26 bullets, most of the clip. The weapon will soon become obsolete when the zombies strength increases. Left of me, more have broken through the windows and are sprinting towards me, yellow eyes pinned on mine.

_**Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. The next one will be up soon, I promise!**_


	5. Souls of the damned

_** Alright, next chapter! I know it seems slow now, but trust me, have patience and it will get better. After all, 'you must ascend from darkness to reach the light' ! (I do not own Call of Duty Zombies, any characters or weapons used or mentioned. Please enjoy.)**_

Susan:

Green beams of pure energy fires through my weapon. In mere moments, entire groups of my undead enemies are reduced to dust. I turn around, eight more stalking me. They enter the sights of my pistol before being reduced to nothing.

They all wear the uniform of the _Wehrmacht_ army; it is clear they are all my former soldiers. Men I used to fight alongside with, men who I cared for in their time of need and who would do the same for me. How they have been reduced to such a state is still unclear to me. Every time I am forced to raise my arms against them, my heart aches. However the path is clear. No matter how much I may pity them, they stand here, and they crave my blood, and I must defend myself.

Two bash through the wooden barriers fortified around the windows. I point my weapon towards them and push the trigger. Nothing. No ammo. The realization hits me like a brick wall; I have been stupid and reckless enough to use a weapon of such power without learning first how to reload it. As they run for me, I put my sidearm back into my pocket and pull out the MG42. Bullets spray into them like a hailstorm, ripping them apart in a matter of seconds.

As the last one falls, a floating, golden phantom appears from it. It gives off a green glimmer, and is in the shape of a 'Fat Man' nuclear warhead. Not sure what to make of it, I carefully reach out and touch it, hoping it will do more good than harm. As my arm passes through it, I am horrified to be blinded by a white haze of white. Frightened as I once was, my sight quickly regains itself. I look around to see that all _untoten_ around me are lying on the ground, burning. Finally, I hear a male voice, one that I've never heard of before. "Kaboom." It says.

I look to see Jacob running towards me through his area. A pity he didn't burn like the others. "Did you see that?" He asks. "That white haze?" "_Ja_; some kind of ghost emerged from a zombie when I killed it. When I touched it, the white haze came, killing the rest of them." He hears a moan coming from his side of the building. He runs in, hopefully to make the zombie a crawler.

I take my pistol back out, it's ammunition still dry. I look on both the sides hoping to find some way to eject the clip. There are none. Not only that, but it doesn't seem to have a clip inserted. Strange. I hear an explosion to my right, confirming my suspicion. Then I notice a crevice on the edge of the chamber; or what should be the chamber. I grab and push down the tip to reveal the ammunition inside. Such an unusual makeup to this weapon. I tilt the gun, letting the capsules out, pull out two new ones, slide them in and push up the tip. I aim at the wall to fire a test shot. It fires, leaving a small hole in the wall. Jacob walks to this area, looking at the pistol with curiosity.

"What do you think it is called?" Jacob asks. Why would that matter? It is effective of ridding us of this disease. That is all that is important to me. Then again, it would be easier to identify if he should gather the luck to receive such a weapon. But I think the point of the question is a petty attempt to close the gap of friend and enemy between a _Schutzstaffel _officer and a Jew. It's a wasteful attempt, but I'll throw him a bone, as a human should to a dog once in a while.

"Perhaps we should decide a name for it." I tell him. He looks up to the sky, pondering on a meaningless title before finally deciding on a name for the gun. "The Beam Cannon. It suits, telling what it is capable of." Just before I accept the name, another comes to mind; One that I actually seem fond of. "Ray Gun." I say. "It's shorter and easier to identify." He nods, accepting the name before moving over to the blocked stairway beside the box. A toppled over couch and two chairs block the way. "Our communications station is upstairs." I tell him. "If the radios are still intact, we may be able to contact more troops, and have them evacuate us. Move the debris out of the way." He grabs the chairs and throws them away on the floor. "Toss those chairs outside and help me move the couch." He says. While he struggles to move the couch, I take the chairs and throw them out an open window before going to help him.

He grabs the end to the top of the stairs while I have the bottom. Slowly we descend down the stairway and walk further back before placing the seat in a corner next to the double-barreled shotgun. He gets up to investigate the upstairs, but stops suddenly before turning to look at me. "Thanks for the help." He says blankly. Exactly how long does he plan to keep this up? Does he not realize what is means to be a member of the Reich? No matter what the situation, we must not trust these scum of the earth; they're corrupt ways have made them the top economic rulers of Europe. There's nothing that I could do as of now that would benefit the Fatherland, but when I leave this wretched place, I can resume my position to help rebuild Germany. But before that, I must survive, and one vital thing to that is getting Jacob to see us only as forced allies. We are, by no means of the word, friends.

"Jacob, you're obviously trying to lesson tensions between us, correct?" He looks puzzled by my question. "We are the only survivors here." He says. "We won't make it through if we both worry about one of us stabbing the other in the back." I'll take that as a yes. "You are right in the sense that we can't hate each other, but you must realize something; You are a Jew. I am a Nazi. Though we must tolerate each other, we don't need to enjoy it." He lets out a chuckle, as though my words are void.

"Let us put political differences aside, shall we?" Political differences? The political differences between us determines either prosperity or poverty for Germany! This attitude is why we must be rid of them, yet they ask why they must be imprisoned? "The hatred between us both is great, but if we are not able to overcome it, what chance do we have of survival? The Reich does not exist here. It is only us and them, and no matter how hard of a fact that must be to accept, this is reality. Can I trust you, or are we doomed to this wretched place?"

As much as every fiber of my being detests it, he is right. No matter our beliefs, they won't stop these beasts from tearing their teeth through our flesh. However, the Reich shall always be the primary force in my heart. Until I breathe my dying breath, whether passing comfortably in a hospital bed or having my heart torn out by the damned, I will make certain that the German people shall prosper for the next thousand years, facing a new enemy or not. I will allow this alliance to continue, but as soon as I discover another whermacht officer, Jacob will find a bullet in his head.

"Fine." I manage to seethe as I walk past Jacob towards the stairs. As I proceed, I notice on the wall in front of me is an outline of another weapon; judging from it's appearance it seems to be a BAR light machine gun, an American weapon. These weapons were never in our arsenal, yet here they lie. Exactly what has transpired in the time me and the Jew were unconscious? No matter; now isn't the time to ponder on such questions. I turn left into the final room to find a miracle; A wooden table sits with four chairs across from it. Upon the table lies our radios, still intact. "Thank God" I whisper under my breath.

Quickly, I seat myself in one of the chairs, setting the coordinates of the message in an attempt to contact Berlin. Certainty they must know of this plague. Static plays from the receiver, then stops, indicating I am now on line. I move the microphone to my mouth, screaming into it. "Hello? Hello? This is _Rottenführer _Adler, calling from the Twenty-third Unit Military barracks, position; 52 miles southwest of your location. If anyone can hear me, please pick up! We need an extraction team NOW!"

For a while, silence. A silence that tears into my very soul. Am I too late? Has Berlin been overrun? Are we doomed to these wretched beasts? Slowly, I remove the receiver from my ear, and go to end the broadcast. Suddenly, I hear a voice, very faintly through the receiver. I pick It back up and answer. "Hello?"

"Where...is daddy?" The voice is that of a little girl, possibly no older than seven. How she ended up at a German barrack is beyond me, but at least I have something. "I don't know, honey." I say. "Tell me, is anyone around you? Are you safe?" Hopefully an adult took her here for shelter. No response for a few seconds, then she comes back on. "I can't find mommy." She says. I rub my forehead in frustration. Though I do care about this child's well being, I need someone who can alert our allies of this.

I sigh, about to speak, but am cut off by her once more. "I want to play a game." "I can't play any games right now." I tell her. "You need to tell me where an adult is." Silence once more. Then, in a happy singsong tone she says, "Lets play tag." I open my mouth to continue this pointless conversation, but am met with the most horrifying sound I've heard in my lifetime. Her voice changes from that of a seven year old girl to a demonic screech, a voice from Satan himself.

"I'M IT!" She screams.

The broadcast ends.

I turn to see Jacob, frozen in place, looking as though he's seen the gates of hell. "Susan..." He says, in a surprisingly calm tone. That tone changes in an instant. "...what the FUCK WAS THAT!?" Before I can answer, screams and moans are heard through our windows. The undead are sprinting towards the windows now, ripping them down like tissue paper. We ready our weapons, his the MP40 and mine the Ray Gun.

Then we hear her again.

"YOU ARE IN MY WORLD NOW! YOU WILL JOIN THEM! AND TOGETHER, WE WILL BRING DEATH TO EDWARD RICHTOFEN!"

_**Starting to get interesting now, isn't it? Hope you guys have your pop corn and Ray Guns, because things are about to get good!**_


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